


A Series of Firsts

by HanaNoir



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, trans - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanaNoir/pseuds/HanaNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, titles aren't my thing.  Basic summary...?  Transformers OCs, canon characters to show up (eventually).  Completely AU, could tie in with either G1 or Prime-verse depending on where I decide to go with it. Any errors are my own fault, as are any other oopsies.  It's just a few little drabbles at the moment but I'm hoping if I keep poking at it, it'll turn into something. ^__^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

The small stand was an oddity on the lower sidewalks of Vos. For one, it was surprisingly well organized and clean. Secondly, the play of light and colors from the crystals that formed the bulk of the wares on display were eye-catching and tended to draw the attention to the slim mech behind the narrow counter. The crystals were artfully arranged in hanging mobiles, as sinuous sculptures and some were even designed as body ornamentation. Crystalwind shifted on his pedes as the city began to wake, gold optics closing as he felt the sun’s warmth wash over him. Last night had been cold and he loved the feel of the rays over his white and gold plating. He was also vain enough to know that the sun would make the small crystals on the edges of his wings glitter and sparkle, drawing even more attention to his little booth. Perhaps today would be a good day in the market.

Databurst observed the crowded lower streets of Vos with faint distaste. Most thought of the city as being populated only by the magnificent flyers that never seemed to touch the ground, but like any other city, Vos had a dark underbelly where those who were no better than their surroundings scuttled and scurried about their business as they eked out a meager living. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught offline in a place like this, but he actually had business with a local merchant today. He stepped from the hovercar, his two guards automatically flanking him. The large imposing mechs guaranteed that he would not be approached as he made his way to his meeting place to see if the merchant actually had what he sought after. The trio rounded a corner and then Databurst stopped dead in his tracks as a whirl of color and light assaulted his optics. He blinked several times to clear the afterimages away, attention on the little booth on the other side of the street. The mech behind the counter was gesturing with his hands as he spoke, refracted light playing over his face as he displayed his wares to a pair of curious shoppers.

Crystalwing smiled over at the pair of young mechs as they looked over his wares, well aware that these weren’t the usual sort of customers that came to the market here. Common though he may be, he recognized Vosnian nobles when he saw them. The younglings were looking for something unique to give their creator-carrier for her emergence day celebration and he was determined that he was going to make a sale. The younglings argued amongst themselves, laughing and poking at each other until they decided on one of the larger crystal and metal sculptures. Feeling generous, he added in a set of faceted wing ornaments as well, which he had the feeling would NOT reach the pair’s carrier. He wrapped the parcel carefully, accepting the offered cred card, and transferring the agreed upon price into his own account. He had gotten far more than his usual asking price for a piece of work and he was feeling a bit giddy as he watched the younglings leave with their carefully wrapped prize.  
Databurst watched the transaction, optics moving over the slim gold and white mech a bit greedily. A mech of that quality was a most unusual find in the lower part of any city and he was curious enough to cross the street, guards trailing after him. He had some time before his meeting and he was in a mood to indulge his curiosity.   
“Do you make these yourself?” The deep voice startled Crystalwing out of his delighted contemplation of the energon he was going to be enjoying tonight and he turned quickly, gold optics wide. The mech on the other side of his counter was large, definitely not a flier and had the sort of aristocratic features only found at the highest levels of society. Primus above…an Iaconian noble…here?? 

“I, ah… yes, I do.” His optics flicked to the silent bodyguards flanking the noble, then back to the mech in the middle. Crystalwind couldn’t help but to regard the noble with a faint hint of artistic envy. The tall mech’s finish gleamed in the sunlight, picking out dark purple highlights in the blue paint and his faceplates were the most handsome that he’d ever seen. The mech nodded as he picked up a carved piece of crystal, watching the colors play along the interior focal point. Surprisingly slim fingers traced the lines and curves of the sculpture, turning it this way and that so that the morning sun could find all the hidden facets.

“Most interesting.” Databurst regarded the artist intently, noting the faint hitch in the other’s airflow. The corner of his mouth turned up in a slow smirk. “I’ll take this one. What’s your price?”

Crystalwind’s optics widened slightly and his mouth opened, only to close again. “I…um… th-thirty creds, sir.”

 

Databurst regarded him dubiously, still turning the sculpture in his hands. “Thirty credits? For this?”

Crystalwind hid a wince, gold optics flicking down then back up. “Twenty-five.”

The dark mech sat the sculpture back on the table, then reached over, a fingertip coming to rest just under Crystalwind’s chin to tip his head up. Startled gold optics met dark green optics for what felt like an eternity to the flustered mech. “Beauty… should never be sold so cheaply.” Crystalwind’s air intakes caught for a moment, then he exhaled with a startled gasp as something was pressed into his free hand. Databurst hid his amusement at the expression on the crystalworker’s face as he straightened, fingertips lightly brushing his jaw as his hand moved away. “I have a meeting to attend to, unfortunately. Would you hold onto this until I return?” Crystalwind nodded slowly, and moved the sculpture to a secure place under the counter. He watched as the three mechs moved away from his booth, striding down the street before disappearing into a shop further down. It wasn’t until they were out of sight that he looked down to see what was in his hand. 

He gasped at the sight of the cred chip in his hand, the Cybertronian glyph denoting a 100 cred piece. He stared at it a moment longer before tucking it away in his subspace. As he turned to speak to a young femme looking over the wing ornamentations, it suddenly occurred to him that he had never even asked for the other mech’s name.


	2. Chapter 2

The faint flutter in his fuel tank was perfectly normal. And if he kept telling himself this, he might actually come to believe it in oh, say…a few more vorns or so. Crystalwing took a deep breath, and then cycled it out through his vents, gold optics closing as he tried to calm himself. He could hear the soft sounds of conversation down the stairs, the voices of mechs and femmes gathered to look at HIS works, here to meet HIM. It was giddy, terrifying and completely surreal all at the same time. 

Physically, he felt completely removed from the street artist hawking his wares from a sidewalk booth in the slums of Vos. If he were to look into a mirror, he would still be the same sleek mech with a white and gold paint job. However, the white was now more of a pearlescent shade that rippled and flowed with subtle rainbows of color under the lights. And the gold – ah, the gold accents on his frame now glittered with actual flecks of metallic accents. It was an expensive paint job that only the elite could afford. And he was about to descend those stairs and be among the actual elite of Cybertron. Nobles from Iacon, Vos, and several other of the city-states mingled in the open gallery below, all there to admire his artwork. The practical part of his processors reminded him that they were also going to spend obscene amounts of credits to take those pieces of artwork home. In the half-vorn since his emergence as a darling of the Cybertronian art scene he had met with quite a few patrons who had commissioned him to create crystalline works of art to grace their homes, offices and even bodies. This was his first open gallery show, however, courtesy of his original patron.

Crystalwind took another deep breath, then almost jumped out of his plating with a startled squeak as a large hand came to rest on his shoulder. He half turned to find said patron standing behind him, regarding him with faint amusement in his green optics. “Oh… Databurst.” He offered a sheepish smile at the taller mech. “You startled me. I thought you were already in the gallery.”

“I was,” the deep voice made the smaller mech shiver faintly. “But we seem to be missing our guest of honor.” The hand dropped from his shoulder, a fingertip brushing the edge of a delicate wing. “And here I find him hiding in the domestic access corridor.” His hand came around, fingertip resting just beneath the pointed chin, tipping Crystalwind’s face up. “What’s wrong? Nervous?”

The question was answered with a slight, embarrassed nod. “A little, yeah. I mean… all those mechs down there, they’re all nobles. What if they realize that I’m nothing but a bot from the slums that got lucky?”

The low rolling chuckle was not the reply he expected, and he shuttered his optics, turning his head away. A large hand cupped the side of his face, turning him back to face the Iaconian. “Crystalwind.” The tone of his voice was amused, but it made him look up nonetheless. He couldn’t help but to stare at the handsome mech whenever he could. “Do you really think I would bring you here just to throw you to the turbowolves?” A thumb brushed the curve of his cheek, making him shiver again. “Do you?”

“N-no…” Gold optics met green and it felt like the entire world was of no concern at all. “I…no.”

“Good.” Databurst leaned closer to the smaller mech, nose almost touching his. “Because I know that you’re going to go out there and shine. You’ll dazzle them with the beauty of your work and the brightness of the spark that can created it. You won’t be alone.” His voice took on an edge of a purr as his engine revved softly. 

Crystalwind couldn’t move as that voice, liquid and sensuous as the most decadent of oil baths, washed over him, making him tremble. “I won’t?” Databurst nodded, thumb brushing over the other’s cheek again, enjoying the feel of the soft dermal plating.

“No. I’ll be there with you. If you’d like, I could open an uplink so that we can speak without anyone else hearing. I’ll just need to share some protocols with you.” His fingertips brushed the small access port behind the artist’s left audial. Crystalwing gasped at that, the port opening before he could even think to do so. Databurst made a small sound of amusement. “I take it that’s a yes?”

Crystalwind nodded, glazed gold optics on the taller mech. “Y-yes…” He watched with baited breath as the information broker pulled a data cable from subspace, jacking it into one of his own dataports, then offering him the other end. He took it with trembling fingers, bringing the lead up and carefully inserting it into his own port. He could feel the other’s presence, hovering politely on the other side of the hardlink, and he shyly offered the key to his first layer of firewalls.

The rush of information transfer caught him off guard and he shivered, optics shuttering. He completely missed the triumphant smirk that crossed the larger mech’s face in that nanosecond of surrender. Crystalwind accepted the transfer protocols, creating the permanent channel link in his own processor. _Ah, there we are._ The deep voice was familiar to him, only now it was speaking to him via an encrypted private com channel. 

His optics popped open and he stared up at Databurst with surprise. _…Is it supposed to feel like that?_

_Like what?_ The amused reply made him squirm slightly. 

_Like you’re inside my processor._ The soft chuckle of reply had him ducking his head again. Maybe it was because of the physical connection, but he could feel that amusement as well as hear it in the tone of the other’s com. A little part of him also wondered if this was similar to what a sparkbond felt like. Another presence in one’s mind all the time… the idea was rather staggering.

_Ah, no… the hardline connection is enhancing the effect. Once that has been disconnected it won’t feel quite so intimate._ Databurst reached for the end of the cable, intending to disconnect, when a slim hand caught his, fingers sliding into his.

_Wait…please?_ The larger mech paused, fingers still on the cable, but he allowed the other to pull his hand away. _It…feels incredible. Don’t disconnect just yet?_ The faint whispers of surprise made Crystalwind’s spark flutter and he looked up at the dark colored mech, his other hand coming up to slide over the smooth chest plating. _I…Primus, I don’t think I could say this aloud._ So he settled for letting his feelings of awe, gratitude, attraction and tentative caring flow back down through the upload link.

Now it was Databurst’s turn to feel his own optics widen. He’d never had anything like this happen during a data transfer. In fact, he was fairly sure it wasn’t even SUPPOSED to work like this. Hardline data connections were simply for the ease and security of transferring private or sensitive information between data carriers. He had certainly never felt any emotions from any of the other data brokers that he had worked with. Was it something unique to the Vosnian’s processor or coding? If there was one thing that Databurst couldn’t resist, it was the opportunity to acquire new information. And so, in the spirit of experimentation, he leaned in, hand curving behind Crystalwind’s helm to pull him closer as their mouths met. He almost locked up at the heady flood of sensations that jolted along the datalink, his optics dimming, then flaring as he greedily kissed the smaller mech, devouring his mouth from the outside down. Crystalwind made a small whining sound as his vents kicked on to deal with the sudden rush of heat and he leaned into the larger mech as his optics shuttered, returning the kiss as best he could. 

Databurst managed to keep enough presence of mind to keep himself from pressing the smaller mech against the wall and ‘facing him right then and there, but it took some effort and a great deal of overriding from his logic programming. He finally broke the kiss, leaning his helm against the other’s and gasping for air. “This…bears further investigation.” He made a ragged sound of amusement as he felt another wave of information from the hardline. “But, this is not the time or place.” Crystalwind nodded slightly, hand still splayed over Databurst’s chestplate. 

Databurst looked down at the smaller mech, green optics narrowed with a faint hint of possessiveness. “For now, we have a gallery full of guests waiting to greet their artist.” Crystalwind nodded again, reaching up to disconnect the data cord and offer it back. He could still feel the newly established com link and he sent a question to the other. Databurst chuckled at the query. “Yes, Crystalwind. I’ll be right by your side.” He straightened, offering a hand to the smaller mech, watching with hidden pleasure as the smaller white hand slid trustingly into his own darker one. 

They walked out together to the wide staircase that lead down into the gallery, and Databurst kept a proprietary hand at the small of the artist’s back as Crystalwind stepped forward with a brilliant smile to accept the accolades and applause that greeted him as he swept into the gallery. The corner of Databurst’s mouth curved up in a lazy, pleased smirk, remembering the feel of that slim frame against his own. Let the noble fools of Cybertron snatch up the artwork and fawn over the artist, he thought. At the end of the evening, the artist himself belonged to only one mech and he fully intended to make sure it stayed that way.


	3. First Offense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Iacon isn't as perfect as it's made out to be.

Crystalwind hummed to himself as he opened up the mail window on his private terminal,  head moving absently to the soft music playing in his studio as he went about the boring morning business of looking through his mail to see if there was anything of interest.  Hm... gushing praises for last deca-cycle’s showing over in Iacon’s Museum of Fine Art, a few messages from a friend or two he’d made over the last vorn and some requests for private commissions.  He forwarded the commission requests over to Databurst for perusal, as the data broker was now acting as his agent as well.  He replied to the few personal messages, then leaned back in the chair specially designed to accommodate his wings.  He was no Seeker but he had a flight capable alt mode, and he enjoyed leaving the surface behind to dance in the air, reveling in the feel of air currents over his body.  He’d tried to explain the sheer joy of it to Databurst several times, but the Iaconian grounder just couldn’t begin to comprehend it.  If he had to deign to fly, he preferred to do it in the comfort of a shuttle, with all the niceties.  He chuckled at the thought, leaning back and stretching, wings going up and out. 

He spent a few breems mentally debating what to do with himself, gold optics roving over his studio to see if any of his current projects would catch his attention.  Nothing really called out to him, and he eyed the new shipment of Nebulon crystals with ambivalence.  They were fresh, just waiting for him to start shaping them into works of art.  He pushed out of the chair, walking over to the shelves where the crystal waited.  He ran his fingertips over several of the crystals, but none of them sang to him, so he turned away from the shelf to look around the studio again.  Still nothing.

“Uuuuugh…booooooored…” He chuckled at the overly dramatic tone of his own voice, then turned away to peer out the window at the orderly towers of Iacon.  The city had an rigid sort of beauty about it, but it was nothing like the majestic spires of Vos.  He was struck with a sudden longing to see his home city again, but he knew that he had too many commitments here to just up and fly off.  Well, he couldn’t go to Vos, but there was no reason he couldn’t get out and travel around Iacon.  Pleased with that conclusion, he walked out onto the balcony, leaping off and transforming mid-air.  Thrusters fired, sending him spiraling up into the sky, his spark dancing at the feel of air around him.  He banked right and executed a slow graceful turn toward the direction of Iacon’s famous crystal gardens.  He had yet to see them and it seemed like a good day to go and do that.  He had plenty of time before he was supposed to meet Databurst for the evening and it would give him something new to talk about.  He had only been in the air for a few kliks when something cut in on his open com channel, making him wince.

_“Unidentified flyer, you are in violation of Iaconian airspace.  Please land at once and assume your root mode.”_ The transmission had Enforcer ident codes, which startled him, but he politely acknowledged it, starting to spiral down to the ground.  As he came down, he saw two large black and white Enforcer mechs waiting on the sidewalk, Praxians judging by the angled doorwings on their backs.  He cut his thrusters and shifted back to root mode, landing lightly on the sidewalk, regarding them with confusion. 

Confusion turned to surprise and worry when they stepped up to him, one with stasis cuffs in his hands.  “State your designation, city-state, and function.”  The mech’s voice was clipped and toneless, blue optics trained on the flier.

“C-Crystalwind, from Vos.  I’m an artist.”  Both mechs sneered at that, one of them moving behind him.  Crystalwind shifted at that, trying to keep an optic on both of them.  That earned him a rough shove from the one behind him.

“Optics forward, Vosnian.  What were you doing in Iaconian airspace?”  The little scene was attracting a few curious glances, but no-one was openly stopping and gawking.  In fact, most bots took one look at the three of them, then flicked their optics away and hurried about their business. 

“I…was going over to the Crystal Gardens,”  Crystalwind tried to explain.  From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t going over well.  “I work here.  I have a studio over there.”  He started to turn and point to the tower, then yelped as one of the Enforcers grabbed his arm and twisted it back around behind him, the other hand landing on his wing, denting the delicate appendage.  He made a pained sound at that, trying to pull away instinctively. 

“No flight plan filed or authorized, no flight permit issued and now resisting arrest?”  The lead Enforcer smirked, pulling out his shock baton and nodding to his partner.  Crystalwind stared in horror at the sparking tip, jerking back only to bump into the large mech behind him.  Gold optics widened as the device came closer and he panicked, struggling against the mech holding him, barely noticing the pain in his arm and wing.  His last thought was a terrified burst on a private com channel as the shock baton impacted his side.

_Databurst!!_

The unexpected com startled the databroker into dropping the datapad that he was extending to his client.  He barely managed to catch it before it hit the floor.  He smiled apologetically, passing it off and leaning back in his chair as the client perused the contents.  What in the Pit was Crystalwind up to?  He knew better than to com him while he was working!  Nonetheless, he opened the channel to make a reply.  _Crystalwind?  Why are you comming me during the work shift?_ His tone was clipped and reflected his annoyance.

That annoyance disappeared faster than a cloud on a sunlit day at the garble of static that was the response to his question.  _…-lp me!!  Ple--  Databurst!!_ The transmission degraded into a cry of pain that abruptly cut off and Databurst turned back to his terminal, fingers dancing over the console as he pulled up information feeds to get a lock on Crystalwind’s location.  The answer was on one of the private Enforcer com channels, a transmission back to a district base about a lone Vosnian brought down in a residential sector, currently resisting arrest.  His lips curled up in a snarl as he spun his chair and shot to his feet. 

His client looked up, startled, as did his assistant and he paused a moment.  “My apologies, sir.  I’m afraid a personal emergency has come to my attention.  My assistant will conclude our transaction.  Bridgeport, please handle the office until I return.”  He shot a datapacket with the details of this particular agreement to his assistant, then strode out the door, his two guards falling in on either side of him, ignoring the stares behind him as he left.

Crystalwind wasn’t sure how he’d become so closely acquainted with the particular grain of the sidewalk.  Perhaps it had to do with the fact that his face had now been pushed into it for the last few breems.  Either way, it was better to focus on the crosshatching pattern than to contemplate the pain running through his body and the error messages flashing frantically on his HUD.  He whimpered when hands clamped on his arms, roughly jerking him up to his knees.  “Transport’s here.  Throw him in and let’s get back to the precinct.”   He tried to struggle as they dragged him toward the open maw of the transport vehicle, sparks popping here and there from breaches in his plating.  They were trying to maneuver his wings in through the doors when there was the sound of another vehicle screeching to a halt, followed by doors opening then slamming shut. 

“Just what in the PIT is going on here?”  Crystalwind’s head turned at the sound of the familiar deep voice, a hand reaching for the large dark colored mech.  _Databurst!_ The Iaconian ignored the private com, narrowed green optics trained on the two Enforcers as he waited for their reply.  He knew that if he so much as looked at Crystalwind the anger he had been holding back would break free and that would be to their detriment.

“Citizen, this isn’t your affair, so I’d advise you to get back in your vehicle and go about your business,” sneered the lead Enforcer, still attempting to stuff the mech in the back of the vehicle.  Crystalwind gasped in pain as the tip of his wing was rudely bent in an effort to shove him into the transport.

Databurst bit back a snarl at that, optics narrowing further.  “Really?  I do beg to differ on that matter, gentlemechs,” putting just enough of a sneer on that last word to make it an insult.  “The mech you are attempting to arrest is my personal guest in Iacon.  I seriously doubt that he’s done anything to warrant this sort of treatment.”

“Think again, big shot.  He was flying without a permit, had no flight plans filed and doesn’t have citizenship here.”  The Enforcer folded burly arms over his chest, chin raising slightly. 

Databurst’s smirk merely deepened, which made the other mech shift slightly, eyes flicking to the two silent bodyguards.  “Perhaps it is you who should check again.” 

“We DID check, and I’m tellin’ you that he’s…got…no…”  His blue optics widened at an incoming transmission from the head of Iacon Security himself, containing the attached unrestricted travel permits for one Crystalwind of Vos, complete with ID holo and codes.  His optics flicked over to the waiting mech, a shaking gust of air escaping vents that were suddenly open.  “…Lockshock.  Let him go.”

The second Enforcer blinked at this, turning.  “What??   Flashbang, you can’t be—”  He shut his mouth as his partner whirled around, glaring at him until his hands moved away from the battered flier.  Crystalwind immediately pushed his way out of the transport, staggering over to where Databurst stood waiting.  _I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry…_

His hand lightly brushed a dented wing, then he gathered the shaking artist in his arms as he offered silent reassurances on their private com channel, holding him possessively close as cold green optics remained on the pair of Enforcers. “ Thank you, Officer Flashbang, Officer Lockshock.”  Lips curved up in a smile that was anything but warm or remotely friendly.  “I trust this unpleasantness is over, yes?”  Both Enforcers nodded sullenly.  “Then we shall bid you good day, gentlemechs.”  He turned, supporting Crystalwind as they walked back to their waiting vehicle.  Databurst’s lips curved up a bit further as his sharp audials caught the muttered threat from one of the officers.  It hardly mattered now.  By tomorrow, the viruses in the transmission they had shared would have done their work and they’d be little more than drooling husks that would serve as a reminder to any who attempted to meddle with what belonged to him.  But for now, he had a shivering mess of Vosnian to comfort, hands gently stroking over damaged wings as he called ahead to make sure a medic would meet them at his dwelling.


	4. First Invitation

Crystalwind didn’t normally show up at Databurst’s office, so when the white and gold Vosnian peered around the door with a shy smile, the databroker knew that something unusual was in the offing.  He ignored the grin on his assistant’s face, making mental note to pay Bridgeport for letting the other mech in at a later point, then gestured for the artist to enter. 

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”  Hesitant gold optics peered earnestly at the dark blue mech behind the large desk.  He noticed the small crystal sculpture on the corner of the desk and recognized it as the very first one that he had sold to Databurst vorns ago when they had first met.  He brightened at the sight, and smiled over at the databroker.  “I’d wondered where you’d put that one.”

“It’s always been on my desk, Crystalwind.”  His tone was patient, not letting any of his annoyance at the interruption filter through.  “What brings you here?”  He checked his internal chronometer and was rather surprised to realize that the day shift was nearly over.  Time had flown by while he had been working. 

Crystalwind shrugged, glancing about the office curiously.  “I was out for a walk and noticed the time.  I thought maybe… you might like to go out for energon this evening?”  He turned hopeful optics on the other mech, waiting.  He couldn’t control the upward arch of his wings, the faint quiver betraying his anxiety.

Databurst couldn’t resist needling the younger mech just a little bit.  The way his faceplates darkened was too charming.  “Why, Crys, are you asking me out?” His tone was just shy of outright teasing and he mentally settled back to watch the resulting display.  He wasn’t disappointed as Crystalwind’s optics widened, that telltale blush darkening his faceplates as his wings jerked and fluttered before sweeping down to flatten against his back.

“I—Ah…”  The younger mech stammered, stuttered, fidgeted and sputtered, trying to format an acceptable answer.  Since that one kiss the night of his first showing, Databurst had been nothing but unfailingly polite to him and sometimes he wondered if he’d done something to make him think that he WASN’T interested.  Or maybe the aristocratic Iaconian just wasn’t actually interested in a Vosnian artists from the slums.   “I just… I mean… we always have energon at your penthouse in the evening. T-together… so I… um… I thought…maybe we could g-go out this once…?”  His hands, graceful even in his distress, gestured wildly to illustrate his words. 

Databurst knew that if he laughed the other mech would completely take it the wrong way so he kept his amusement on a tight leash.  He saved his work and shut down the console, pushing from his chair and coming around the side of the desk.  Large black hands curled around smaller white ones, thumbs brushing over the backs of them.  “Crys… it’s all right.”  The little flier was close to overheating; he could hear vents whirring to expel the heat from systems taxed by embarrassment and surprise. 

Gold optics flicked down to their joined hands, then back up to Databurst’s face, lips turning up in another of those shy smiles.  “Really?” 

“Yes, silly mech, really.”  He gave the other’s hands a squeeze, watching the easily read emotions playing over his faceplates.  That emotional display he had been prepared for.  What he was quite unprepared for was when Crystalwind’s hands released his so that the flier could throw his arms around the taller mech’s neck, giving him an enthusiastic hug.  Databurst froze for a moment, startled, then his hand went to the other’s hip to steady both of them.  He could feel the warmth of the other’s frame pressed against him and it made his own systems begin to heat.  He looked down at the smaller mech, his other hand coming up to brush the lower edge of a wing, tracing to the small of his back.

Crystalwind shivered at the touch, tilting his head back to peer up at Databurst, lips parting slightly to speak, most likely an apology judging by the expression on his face.  Databurst made sure the words were never said, his mouth sealing over the other’s in a possessive kiss.  He smirked to himself as he swallowed the low moan that rose up from Crystalwind, drinking it in as his hands caressed over sensitive wings, finding just the right seams and edges to tease.  Crystalwind’s hands moved slowly, flattening against Databurst’s shoulders, thumbs brushing over the exposed cables on the sides of his neck, hungrily returning the kiss, glossa shyly licking back at the other’s.   His engine rumbled, the vibration making him shudder, then he shuddered harder at an answering, deeper, purr from Databurst’s systems. 

Databurst finally ended the kiss, denta lightly biting Crystalwind’s lower lip, licking it before pulling away just a bit.  He smirked in satisfaction at the dazed look on the other’s face, hand coming up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw.  Such a little innocent for all of his years of living in the slums.  And he fully intended to be the one to savor every last bit of that innocence.  He wasn’t about to let anyone or anything steal this away from him.  “Crystalwind.” 

The sound of his name, rolling out in that deep purring voice made him shiver, hands tightening on the other’s shoulders.  “Y-yes…?”

He chuckled softly, possessive hands still exploring those graceful wings, making mental note of every twitch, gasp and jerk for future reference.  “Do you want me?”  He watched the shifting play of emotions again, lips curved in a faint smile as he waited for his little artist to be able to form a coherent answer.

Crystalwind stared up at Databurst, barely able to pull air into his vents.  Was he asking what he thought he was??  “I…”  He managed to pull in air, then expelled it through his vents.  “Yes… I want you.”  His hand moved, blocking Databurst’s mouth before he could speak again.  “But… I want more than just a quick ‘face, ‘Burst.”

An optic ridge quirked at that, then he kissed the fingers over his mouth.  “I’ve never been accused of being fast at that.”  Crystalwind laughed at the reply, but still regarded him seriously, so Databurst answered in kind.  “No, Crys, if you come to my berth it won’t be just another quick ‘face.”  He lowered his head, lips almost touching an audial as he spoke, deep voice underscored by the growl of his engine.  “If you come to my berth, I ‘ll take all of you.  Slowly and completely.”  He could feel the flier trembling and it made his smirk deepen.  “I want all of you, whatever you want to give me.”

His answer was a faint moan as Crystalwind pressed harder against him.  “I want you… I want to be yours, ‘Burst.” 

The feeling of triumph was almost as good as the feeling of the smaller mech pressed against him, systems hot and hands all over his frame.  He turned his head to find Crystalwind’s mouth, indulging in a slow sweet kiss, taking his time and savoring his prize.  When the kiss reluctantly ended he chuckled softly.  “Now…about that energon?”

 

 


End file.
